Wammy's House: O's story
by XxsilenceisgoldenxX
Summary: Wammy's House was meant to train the brightest of the bright to become top notch detectives. So what happens when one orphan decides she doesn't wan't to use her mind for good anymore. This is the story of O and her adventures in the world of crime as well as her struggle to prove that she is better than L himself. Maybe L/OC I haven't decided yet. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first death note fanfiction so go easy on me, its also only my second story so I still basically suck at using this website. This story will revolve around my OC O, a Wammy house girl who doesn't want to be one of the "good guys" anymore. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it. Suggestions would be super helpful cause I'm basically making this up as I go. So now i guess I'll shut up and let you guys get to my story :)**

**Disclaimer: all rights go to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata**

The invisible O

The sky outside was cloudy, typical weather for England. O stared outside the window and thought about the clouds. She hated cloudy weather, and England for that matter. She hated Wammy's house, and all the bright young geniuses that inhabited the orphanage. She would leave if she had the choice, but no, she was stuck here because of her IQ. She had to stay here and uses her intellect to benefit society, even though she hardly ever solved cases.

O lost her train of thought when an enthusiastic voice squealed some answer the altered voice belonging to the screen had asked. She glanced to the front of the room, looking at the monitor that held all the kids attention. A large cloister black 'L' was on the screen, the symbol and alias of the genius detective who was off exploring the world and solving all the cases deemed unsolvable. This was one of the rare times when L would contact Wammy's house to help educate the young geniuses who would eventually succeed him.

Really though only two kids really had the chance to succeed L, three if you counted O, but she hid her true intellect to avoid that situation. The two Wammy's boys who did want succeed L were Mello and Near, who were both not paying attention to the screen and what L had to say. Ironic O thought that the kids who actually stood a chance at being L's successors were the ones who didn't pay attention to what he had to say.

While O was enjoying the irony she found in the situation she heard something that caught her attention. The altered voice of L brought up some case he referred to as the BB serial killings. He was using it as an example of why it was imperative to use their intellect for good, trying to explain the importance helping society with their minds rather than hurting it. The thought stuck with O, everyone at the orphanage could evade the police and commit serious crimes blind-folded. So why didn't they? Why didn't she?

O figured that BB was on to something when he went to a life of crime. He just went about it all wrong. She knew BB, and L for that matter, and knew why he had gotten caught. The problem was BB wasn't very subtle, and because L used deductive reasoning and events to track down criminals she knew L would eventually find BB.

O had been at Wammy's house since the beginning, learning right alongside L and BB. She knew both of them well even if they didn't know her, but that was the way O liked it. She liked to observe, she kept to the shadows and made sure to make herself as unmemorable and unremarkable as possible. That's how she knew BB was too wild to stay hidden for long. That's also how she knew that L could only find a criminal though logic and events and actions. L's method was flawless for 99.1% of the time because all criminals left clear trails through their actions and habits. O also knew exactly how to evade L using that other .9%.

What's stopping me? O thought to herself, what's stopping me from proving that L isn't perfect? Nothing was the answer. O didn't believe in good or evil, she didn't believe in humanity, or right or wrong. She only solved the easiest cases even though she knew the answer to every single one she had laid eyes on. That was all part of her effort to make herself seem mediocre, and it worked, all of the other kids thought she was as dumb as they come and was only at the orphanage because that old guy Watari pitied her.

Maybe she though to herself that it was time to prove that she was the smartest of them all, and what better way than to outsmart L the greatest three detectives in the world. Yes, O decided, it was time to make her move, she would outsmart L and prove herself to be the smartest of the geniuses. But of course she wouldn't come right out and challenge him as O; that would take away half the fun. She would do it by not being O, by staying undetected while causing chaos that was so perfectly hidden that nobody could connect it to her. She would win by playing a one-sided game that L didn't even know he was playing. She would win by doing what she did best: being invisible.

When the meeting with L was over she stood up with the rest of the congregation, her platinum waist-length blond hair swishing and ice-blue eyes laughing. And left the room, with everyone else. Blending in with all of the other bright detectives of the future, but instead a solving a case in her mind or analyzing what L had said she was using her incredible mind to carefully plot her disappearance. O was planning the game she would play using the world as her game board, the one she knew she would win.

**Yeah super short I know but this was basically an introductory chapter. There will be more to come, I promise.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, Hello! Finally finished chapter two! Yeah sorry it's another get-to-know chapter starring my Oc so sorry. But hey things should pick up soon and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna add L to the mix soon :)Review's are always welcome and I hope you guys enjoy.**

**All right's go to the writers of the Death Note, I do not own the original character's but the Oc's are indeed mine.**

Fi

O sat comfortably reclining in a leather chair, in a black room, in a swanky hotel in the middle Los Angeles. As much as she'd love to stick around on a hard earned vacation she had to get herself up. She had to get ready because she had a job to do tonight. And she was getting paid well too, three million for this one mission.

With a dainty gasp she lifted herself up from the chair and crossed the lavishly decorated suite. I mean sure, normally she liked to keep it on the down low, but hey it couldn't hurt to splurge now and then right. Okay maybe O was getting careless but it had been eight years since she had left Whammy's house at the age of sixteen and it had been six since the last honest to goodness attempt had been made to capture her. So yeah being careless wasn't a crime. Besides if anybody still decided to try and find her they would be hard pressed to get information about one of her personas let alone the many others.

She was the elusive assassin Fi, she was the detective who didn't follow the rules Lia, she was the master hack Jin Takahashi, she was the cat burglar Lizzie Jean, she was the drug overlord Jacque Leu, she was the notable charity benefactor Lolita Williams, along with countless other alias's and roles. Sure, some of theses were notable names but there were so many and she kept herself so secretive that they could never be connected to each other or runaway O of Whammy's house.

Along with her criminal personas she was also "the Warden" of the "Asylum", a place much like Whammy's house only rather than prepping for good, she trained the next generation of masterminded criminals. The Asylum was O's greatest accomplishment and best kept secret, the institute was only for the elite, and top syndicate, mafia, and Cartel members paid top dollar to have their youths trained there or to purchase one of the kids for their use in whatever crime organization they were running.

Yes O was accomplished, and very wealthy, and she wasn't even close to done yet. The best part of course was that she never failed and was never caught. The police were always baffled, they could never figure out why some politician died, or how some valuable jewel went missing from a museum. When they did suspect foul play they always ended up accusing a far more well known criminal so when they were caught for her misdeeds O was let off the hook. In fact, when she acted as Lizzie Jean she often left a trail that pointed to a more notorious burglar Wedy, it was rather convenient actually.

But she could pat herself on the back later; tonight she had to kill. Tonight she was Fi, one of her favorite alter egos. O rummaged through her suitcase until she found what she was looking for: a skimpy pink mini dress covered in leather and buckles and chains. But before she could don her "work uniform" she put on the "sexy" underwear with a deadly purpose.

The bra was lacy and pink with adorable little pockets on each cup, both pockets decorative and for all intents and purposes harmless. The underwear was also pink with little zippers to nowhere hanging off of it. In reality the two pretty little pockets on the bra concealed 400mg of cyanide, contained in two very small but deadly syringes. One of the seemingly useless zippers on the panties actually led to a small pouch that contained a little razor blade. She had this set custom made for the job. O would have rather had more weapons on her person in the highly unlikely event that something would go wrong (as a percentage there was less than a 4% chance that she would need more than she had but still) but she had nowhere to hide any more weapons without seeming obvious. That said she still slid one of her favorite knives inside of one of her knee socks.

She donned the sexy little outfit and a long black cloak (unbuttoned and hanging loose) and looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad, she thought. A tall willowy girl stood before her with long blonde hair that cascaded past her waist and piecing ice blue eyes. She was a tad skinny and her figure wasn't as luscious as others but the bra helped lend itself to the desired affect. Heavy makeup accentuated her feminine face with smoky dark eye makeup that added to the "mysterious" effect that men seemed to find desirable. She looked great, except for… the pink-and-black knee socks she was wearing. But Oh well, O refused to go anywhere without knee socks on. She detested shoes and didn't appreciate the feel of regular socks and besides knee socks were just so much more fun. There were logical reasons for the habit as well, shoes were too heavy and she couldn't go around barefoot for fear of leaving evidence, The socks were easy to move in and also muffled noise… and yeah O reeaaally like Knee socks. But hey, everyone has there vices right?

With one last glance in the mirror O stalked out of the room and out of the hotel. She took a black unmarked limo to a street a couple blocks away from where her target would come through in 7 minutes and 45 seconds and counting. Timing was everything. She hopped out of the limo and quickly walked to her designated spot. It was 5 blocks from her targets hotel (also super swanky); it was also a well known spot for prostitutes to gather. Remember that bit about everyone having their vices, well Borislav Reznikov's was his weakness for prostitution.

Reznikov was a prominent member of the Russian Mafia, and he was in LA for business. Some wealthy rival from the same mafia had called in and gave O all of the information she needed to take out his rival, he also offered a hefty reward so here O was waiting for the black Mercedes that would drive by in about 36 seconds. O predicted that the car would slow down as she stood on the center divider as she fiddled with her clearly visible bra (slipping money in it if you wanted to get technical) it would continue to drive for another 6 seconds then would come back to her slowly in reverse where the technicalities of their future transaction would be worked out.

Then a black Mercedes drove by slowing down slightly. O began to count 1… 2… 3… and after 6 seconds exactly the car began to go in reverse to where O stood. A tinted window rolled down to reveal a burly man eyeing her up and down when the car sidled up next to her. O could see the wheels turning in his head wondering if the young girl wearing socks but not shoes was worth his time. Then finally in a gruff voice with a heavy Russian accent he said "I will give you these diamonds for the night" as he said this he held out a hairy hand with four uncut "diamonds" resting in his palm.

Like any good little prostitute she obediently fawned over the diamonds that were obviously fake; well at least it was obvious to O. With a satisfied and slightly perverted twinkle in his eye Reznikov opened the door to the Mercedes and let O inside. She promptly landed on his lap and began to giggle and flirt for the rest of the car trip. Poor guy didn't know what he was getting into, thought O as she tipped the flask full potent Russian vodka for Reznikov, giggling all the while.

They arrived to the hotel with the Russian mafia member stumbling ever-so-slightly on their trip to the luxurious suite at the top of the hotel. Just my luck, thought O with a smile, his being drunk made my job easier. After the long journey to the room Reznikov pinned O to the wall, his alcoholic breath washing over her face.

"What's you name, my American beauty?" He whispered slurring his word ever so slightly.

"Fi." She murmured cracking a grin he would perceive as sensual that was actually victorious.

O slid out of his grasp like oil and began to slide of the coat off his broad shoulders as he stumbled to help her. As he shed more articles of clothing all of his variously concealed weapon left him too. The whole reason O couldn't kill him in the car was because he was armed to the teeth as well as his driver, she was trying to avoid a messy confrontation so she had to wait until he was naked and essentially helpless. Once he was in nothing but boxers he began to fumble with the straps and buckles of her own outfit, his vodka soaked breath engulfing her as she leaned closer. She decided to help him along and slid easily out of her own strappy outfit. The faster she was in only her bra and panties the faster she could get this over with.

Reznikov threw her on the bed before joining her immediately, his shrewd eyes glowing with excitement. Now it was time make her move. Her hands moved to her chest, causing the Russian to believe she was about to remove her top. Digging her fingers in the fabric of her bra, an act that could have easily been perceived as foreplay, O took a vial of cyanide with 200mg in it out of her ornamental pocket. She threw herself into his arm and dug her nails in his back.

He chuckled lightly before saying "Careful little one, be gentle"

While O nails were embedded in his back she quickly injected the lethal contents with practiced ease. Reznikov winced again and grunted before prying her hands off his back and gave her a stern look.

"Sorry" O murmured a with a red blush spreading across her ivory cheeks "I got excited" He laughed again before smashing his drunken face into hers for a sloppy kiss, and O let him because he had another 30 seconds before the effects began to manifest themselves. In another two minutes Mr. Borislav Reznikov would die of cyanide poisoning. And as she predicted, as his clumsy fingers unhooked her bra, he began to stiffen. He collapsed onto O's lap and began to convulse on the soft sheets of the luxurious bed. He then started to making choking noises as his hands scrabbled uselessly around him. Then his two minutes were up, Reznikov stilled forever, his body stiffening and his eyes, which were stretched wide and popping out of his face, glazed over.

With that over with O began to dress him again, putting all of his clothing exactly back into place with her photographic memory as her aid. Afterwards she herself got back into the clothes she shed but this time buttoned up the overcoat. Then she rooted around the suite removing all of the taps and security cameras that had been placed for the dead Russian's security. O used her vast knowledge of technology she had gained through her stunts as Mr. Jin the hack to wiped the memory as if she'd never been there. Finally 3 a.m. rolled around and it was time to initiate part two.

O crept out of the hotel room that bore no more traces of her and headed to the slightly more modest one across the hall. She slid a long narrow tool out of her hair that she had used to pin it up and stuck it in the lock. After 10 minutes of working on the expensive and secure lock she manage to enter the room. As expected, Reznikov's "trusty" bodyguard and the faceless driver of the Mercedes lay unconscious on the sofa, done in by the large amounts of alcohol he consumed as soon as the high ranking mafia member entered his suite safe and sound with a prostitute. O crept over to the snoring behemoth and slid out her remaining syringe of cyanide. She deftly slid the needle into his skin and emptied its contents; the man didn't even stir. Then four minutes later he too took his last breath after the convulsions of his body ceased. With the last witness of the famed assassin Fi's face dead, O was able to leave. She checked both rooms one last time for evidence or bugs before leaving through the lobby like nothing happened.

O made it to her own hotel room before the sun came up, and later that day received 3 million dollars after her client confirmed the targets death. It was a good day for O.

**Suggestions are welcome and I'll try to update ASAP, hope to see ya'll sooner rather than later**


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